She Never Wanted This
by whitetiger91
Summary: Druella blames herself for a death in the family. Cygnus tries to comfort her.


**She Never Wanted This**

"I never wanted this!"

Cygnus sighed, patting his wife on the shoulder. He could feel her trembling under his touch, her chest heaving up and down. Nevertheless, it didn't stop her from clawing at him with her nails, and he quickly withdrew his hand.

"No one thinks you did," he said, taking a step back.

"They don't have to; I know they're all thinking it. They remember what I said; it won't ever be forgotten, I know it!" Druella said, stomping a foot on the ground. Bringing a silk handkerchief to her eyes, she dabbed at the tears that continued to flow. "They will always remember."

"It was a spur of the moment quip. You couldn't have known it would happen," Cygnus tried again, but as Druella turned a fierce glare at him, he sealed his lips.

"Just leave me be! I want to remember my nephew in peace. Go on, get out! Now!"

Cygnus didn't immediately move. He knew it wasn't right to leave his wife by herself, not when she was in such a state. No matter how upset she was, Druella would always hold her tears in, believing that crying in public was not befitting of a Pureblood lady. She even went so far as to hide her tears from him, in which he would often catch her sobbing in the middle of the night into her pillow. The fact that she was now so openly distraught made him want to stay and offer what little comfort he could. After all, what had happened to Regulus was not her fault. If he was right in thinking that an instance at a party long ago was what she was referring to, then she had nothing to worry about.

Still, Druella could glare down a Banshee if she wanted, and the look she was giving him now was enough to send shivers down his spine.

"I'll give you a moment," he said, walking over to the door. "But I do believe that this has nothing to do with you."

He shut the door, seemingly just in time. By the sound of the large crash against it, Druella must have thrown a plant or picture frame at him. Shaking his head, he knew it would be a very long moment before he came back.

He walked down the hallway, heading straight for his office. There was still work he needed to finish up, and it wouldn't benefit him to dwell on whatever had gotten into Druella for too long. Taking care of feelings would not help him seal the latest deal with the Goblins, nor would it help him with maintaining the Lestrange account he had recently acquired.

Opening the large mahogany office door and seeing his familiar office, his worries dissipated. Everything here was organised. His polished desk was only covered by a small pile of parchment and a line of fine quills and gilded inkpots, the rest of the paperwork filed neatly in a matching mahogany cabinet. The chair sitting behind the desk was large and comfortable—much more so than the other two chairs in front of it, reserved for the rare occasion clients were invited to the mansion—and the tall bookcases lining the walls held thick books that were arranged by subject and author. It was not chaotic, unlike what he could currently say for Druella.

Walking over to the chair, Cygnus sat himself down. He pulled forth the first parchment he needed, picked up his favourite emu-feathered quill, and dipped it into ink. The Goblins were trying to take advantage of the fact that his business would be passed onto a son-in-law, rather than a blood relative. He knew they were trying to pretend to be concerned that the business would fail once he passed, simply because he had no son. They always pulled those stunts; what they didn't seem to realise was that Cygnus was not as much of a pushover as other wizards.

He began to write a letter to the Goblin in charge of negotiations, yet before he could get a sentence out, he found his mind wandering back to Druella down the hall. The Goblins weren't the only ones supposedly disappointed that Cygnus had never fathered a child.

* * *

 _ **18 years earlier…**_

 _"Three cheers for Regulus, the newest Black to grace our world. Hooray!"_

 _"Hooray!" Cygnus murmured, joining in with the low cheers of everyone else in the room. Well, almost everyone else._

 _As his brother,_ Orion, _shook hands with various family members, he saw Druella glaring at Walburga._

 _"They've done well for themselves," he said, placing a light hand on Druella's shoulder._

 _His wife pursed her lips, nodding once. Her eyes were still focused on Walburga, who was looking around at those gathered, head held high. In her arms was a tiny bundle wrapped in a blanket, squirming around._

 _"Given what they had to work with," he added, hoping to at least make her look happy to be there—or at the very least stop glaring at her sister-in-law._

 _Rather than acknowledge him, however, Druella turned her glare to their daughter. Bellatrix was tugging on_ Druella's _hand, demanding attention as usual, whilst her sisters were off trying to put a headband on Sirius._

 _"Why don't you go and bother someone else?" she snapped, trying to pry off Bellatrix's hand._

 _The girl pouted, her dark eyes narrowed. "No one is paying me attention, Mother. I'm the one who will be going to Hogwarts in a few years. I'm the one who will be able to perform magic and makes things float and explode and grow, not that baby. Why should I give them my own attention if they can't pay me respect?"_

 _Druella sighed, pulling her hand away. "For goodness sake, Bellatrix. It doesn't matter what you are going to do in a few years. You're not a boy, so don't expect a fuss."_

 _Bellatrix's eyes narrowed further, her lips quivering. Stomping her foot, she stormed over to the food table and began to scoop off the icing on the giant cake._

 _"Druella, you cannot speak to our child that way," Cygnus said, his own eyes furrowed. He didn't care if his wife was nasty to anyone else, but it was not necessary to speak to their daughter that way._

 _"Don't you start with me," she said. She brushed off his hand. Turning around, she scanned the room for a moment, before spotting a house-elf and snapping her fingers. "Wine, elf, now."_

 _The house-elf hobbled over, a silver tray in hand. Druella snatched up a goblet,_ shooing _the elf away with her other hand, and took a large gulp. Pulling the goblet away from her mouth, she frowned._

 _"If they're going to rub it in my face, they could at least provide some decent beverages," she said._

 _Cygnus shook his head. So that was what this was all about. He knew Druella had a tendency to be a little envious of Walburga. Whenever the witch got a new portrait done, Druella would demand an even bigger family portrait would be done, if Walburga redecorated a room, Druella would request the house in its entirety be re-done. It was the same when Walburga had given birth to Sirius. After having had three girls, he knew Druella had wanted more than anything to have a boy; Walburga, on the other hand, had done nothing but complain that her figure would be ruined, and didn't care that she had successfully produced a male heir._

 _He had assumed that her hostility today was only more jealousy of the attention focused on Walburga itself. Now, however, he realised it was more specific: with a second son to their three daughters, Walburga seemed to have it all._

 _"It won't be long now and we can go home. Let's just share in their_ happiness _for now, ok?" he said._

 _Druella rolled her eyes. Despite the claim that the wine wasn't to her taste, she took another gulp. And another. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, but they were all too busy talking and having a good time to notice._

 _After finishing her drink, Druella's frown disappeared and she smiled at him. "You know what? You're right. I should enjoy this moment, and so should Walburga."_

 _Cygnus nodded, though he wasn't quite convinced. He wanted her to act normal, happy even—but now she was too happy._

 _"That's good," he said._

 _"I mean, my girls are always going to look up to me, no matter how old they get. What are her boys going to do with her? Fear her? Wish they were anyone else but here?" Druella said with a laugh._

 _Cygnus pressed a finger to his lip. His wife was getting louder, and although he agreed that Walburga was a bit of a handful, he didn't feel that now was the time to say so._

 _Druella huffed. "You know, they'll probably grow up so spiteful like her that they will probably run away or try to off themselves!" she said._

 _He opened his mouth to tell her to be quiet, but it was too late._

 _"Is that so?" Walburga said._

 _She was no longer holding Regulus, a goblet now in her hands instead. Her eyes were twinkling with amusement, a smirk covering her pale face. Druella turned to her, no trace of laughter on her face._

 _"Congratulations, Walburga," she said stiffly._

 _Walburga's smirk grew. "I'm glad you could make it. But don't worry, Druella, I understand why you are so jealous of me. Having a son—a second son—is really quite the joy. Perhaps you'll get an heir eventually if one of your girls ever marries," she said._

 _Cygnus put a hand on Druella's forearm, warning her to stay calm. She was shaking a little, her face red. Smiling at Walburga, he said, "We really are happy for you and my brother. You deserve this joy."_

 _Walburga turned a grin to him. "Thank you, Cygnus. I'm glad you think so."_

 _Unfortunately, it was too much for Druella. "You don't deserve to have two sons, you witch. You don't even deserve to have one son, and I'm sure everyone here knows it."_

 _Cygnus' grip on Druella tightened. She stepped back, taking a deep breath, as Walburga pursed her lips._

 _Closing her eyes for a moment, she then said, "But I'm sure you will do your best to raise the boys as proper Slytherins."_

 _Walburga nodded. "I'm sure we will. If you'll excuse me," she said, turning on her heel and walking to another crowd of Blacks._

 _Druella twisted out of his grip. Clicking her fingers for the house-elf to bring her a drink, she simply said, "Don't."_

 _The reprimand he had formed on his lips died and he shook his head. When the house-elf came over, he took a drink himself, searching the crowd for his brother so he could apologise._

* * *

Sighing, Cygnus put down his quill. Walburga and Orion had since forgotten what Druella had said at the celebration, never to bring it up again. More so, they had named both him and Druella as guardians of Regulus, proclaiming that they were the best fit to look after their son.

Druella had been out of line, of course, but what she had said wasn't as bad as it seemed. It wasn't as though she had said she wanted Regulus to die, or that she would be happy if he did.

Shaking his head, he picked up his quill again. Druella was smarter than that; she was probably just using it as an excuse to cry, that was all. Putting the quill to the parchment, he started to write again.

It wasn't like Druella would really blame herself for Regulus' death, right? The boy had joined the Dark Lord by himself, and it wasn't like he had been forced to do so, either. If anything, he had died with honour through service.

"Dammit!"

He had lost track of what he was doing, and now the formal business document was a listing of why Druella shouldn't be crying. Placing the quill back in its holder, he scrunched up the paper and tossed it into the waste-paper basket. Then, after glancing at the clock to see if there was any point trying to continue, he pushed back his chair, stood up, and walked out of the room.

He would check on Druella, if not for her sake, then to allow him to have peace of mind. Walking down the hallway, he couldn't hear any more thrown objects or screeching and took that as a good sign that perhaps she had calmed down.

Nevertheless, he opened the door as quietly as possible, just in case another object was thrown at him. None were, and as he stepped inside the sitting room, he saw Druella huddled under the window. Her body was trembling, her head buried in her knees.

'Druella?" he said, stepping forward.

She didn't respond, save for a sniffle. He walked closer, and although it ached to do so, he bent down on his knees. Gripping her wrists, he forced her to look at him. Tears tracks ran down her face, her blue eyes made brighter by the contrasting red rims.

"Druella?"

She sniffed again, shaking her head. "It's my fault."

"It is not your fault," he said. "Come, let's get you up."

He tried to lift her up, his knees protesting, but she simply shook her head. "I didn't want this."

"Shh, c'mon, no one did. At least now he is resting in peace and as a hero no less. You had nothing to do with what happened."

"I said—I said," she spluttered, a hiccough escaping her lips. "I said I—that party—didn't deserve"

Cygnus sighed and moved into a more comfortable position. Pulling Druella forward, he let her rest her head on his shoulder. The material of his cloak was soon soaked through, but he didn't care, rubbing her back.

"I remember what happened that day," he said, continuing to rub her back. Druella hiccoughed again. "And you only said what a lot of people were thinking. You were upset; you didn't mean that Regulus should die."

"I—"

"We've all said things we regret," he said.

Druella lifted her head, staring at him. Her eyes searched his face as though looking for a sign that he was lying.

"But I—"

"But nothing. There have been far worse things said about our nephew than the implication that he wasn't good enough. Walburga does not blame you for his death, nor does anyone else. More so, words do not make things happen unless they pertain to direct spells, and whilst you might have felt like hexing Walburga from time to time, you never cursed her to lose her son.

"Deep down, I think you know that," he said.

Druella blinked. "I do," she said with a sniff.

"And blaming yourself won't bring him back. Now, I expect you to show some more restraint and pull yourself together."

She nodded, wiping her robe sleeve across her eyes. More tears welled up in her eyes, however, and she pushed her head back against his shoulder.

"It shouldn't have happened," she sobbed, the words muffled by his robes.

Rather than push her away or try to make her stand, he resumed rubbing her back. Pressing a kiss to her head, he murmured, "I know, I know."

It was all he could do. He hoped Druella knew she really was not to blame, but if not, he would keep trying.

* * *

 ** _A/N: This fic was written for Camp Potter hosted by Cheeky Slytherin Lass on the HPFC forum._**

 ** _Cabin: Malfoy_**

 ** _Week two: First Aid_**

 ** _Prompts:_**

 ** _Mandatory: 1. Forgotten 2. Float 3. "I never wanted this!"_**

 ** _Optional: 1. Rage 4. Devastated 5. Advantage._**

 ** _Word count: 2583 words_**

 ** _This was more blah again, but hopefully, it passes for any Druella/ Cygnus shippers. Thanks for reading :)_**


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